Once I Was Real
by Kryptonian-Suckerpunch
Summary: ((Warning: MAJOR TRIGGERS. Attempted Suicide)) 2 years. It's been 2 years of only knowing his name. 2 years of being walked through. 2 years of pain and loss. And now? Jack has had enough. ((One-shot. No NSFW, but rated M for Attempted Suicide. *Read with caution!*))
1. A Beautiful Lie

Jack ran. He didn't use the wind. He didn't conjure anything. He just ran as icy tears rolled down his cheeks. The only noise in his ears was the faint whisper of the wind, his heaving breath and the pounding of his bare feet on the street.

Snow rained down from the sky in a fit, since Jack'a emptiness and the winter weather went hand-in-hand. He sped through the snow, slipping every now and then as his tears blurred his vision. Soon he was so distraught, he didn't care to stop himself. He fell flat on his face, his face slamming into the concrete with a hard '_**crack**_'.

Shakingly, he pushed himself up until he was sitting criss-crossed in the snow. Tears freely flowed down his cheeks and his sobs filled the empty streets. No blood came from his nose, and he started to scream. Why? Why no blood? He saw a kid get punched and blood flowed effortlessly. Why not Jack?

That was another question Jack has been asking for 2 years. 2 years of only knowing his name, his mind was constantly fogged by questions with no answers. Questions he screamed at the Moon, questions he screamed at himself. But one question topped them all:

_"Why can no one see me?"_

These past 2 years, Jack screamed in the faces of random strangers. He screamed and he yelled and he sometimes even hit them. But all they did was pass through them.

_Like he wasn't even there._

As Jack sat there in snow, he screamed. Jack screamed as loud as his frozen lungs would allow. He screamed questions, he screamed pleas, or he just screamed. His throat ran raw and soon, he couldn't produce more than a simple squeak. Blinking his tear filled eyes, he noticed something...

A church.

The tallest building in the unfamiliar town was in front of him, easily the tip was 85 feet high. Jack's sobs softened and his breath hitched as he stared, the slightest idea coming to his head...

_'Maybe if I just jump...'_

Jack had I admit that even in his state, the thought scared him. But...

_It didn't scare him enough to stop._


	2. Broken Promises

Jack could barely breathe. He had to will himself to take in every labored breath, reluctantly sucking in the air of a world that ignored him. The world that ripped everything from him, each day of being ignored was like a white-hot flame lighting his soul. There was only one thing keeping Jack going at this point:

_Jumping would take him away from this awful hell._

Jack would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. In truth, he was terrified. But the thought of being ignored and forgotten for another single second scared him even more. Jack hated this feeling, the feeling that the world drove him to this. The feeling that he got so low, he couldn't pull himself up. He spent 2 years of his life searching and searching for the answers to all his questions, and it hurt to know that jumping off that church was the answer life had given him. Life had pushed him, beaten him, and ignored him to the point where he didn't want to live for the sunrise. Did life really hate him that much?

"Wind" He muttered bitterly under his breath, the words numb on his tongue. "Take me away from this perdition."

And as Jack floated up and over the town, he thought of a quote he had heard from some people passing through him.

_'Life asked Death, "Why does everyone love me, but fear you?" And Death responded: "Because you are a beautiful lie, and I am the painful truth"'_

When Jack first heard the quote, he found it eerie, creepy, even chilling. But now, as he felt nothing rattling inside him, floating up to what soon would be the end, he felt as if it was sobering. Like he had swallowed gallons of soap and would soon be cleansed.

The tips of his bare toes touched upon the church, dancing on the edge like some dance of death. He looked over the near silent world, taking it in. He hated the fact that his last sight would be of the world that had pushed him to this fate. The thought of that felt like someone was pouring rubbing alcohol over all his open wounds.

The wind blew gingerly through his white locks, kissing his face and lacing through his fingertips in a silent song. Snow was still falling, but much lighter now, because in truth: Jack felt nothing. Jack started to laugh, chuckling bitterly at the fact that he was on top of the world by standing on the church tip, but he felt so incredibly small and low. He looked at windows and the doors of houses, and thought about the people inside. He thought about mothers and fathers lying their children down to sleep, kissing their foreheads and telling them that they were loved. He tried to think of what that would feel like, but it was a lost cause. It dawned on Jack that he was going to leave this world without knowing what being loved felt like, and the thought made the action of jumping all the more tempting.

Jack brought his fingers to his neck, and started to unravel the leather strap that held his cloak to his body, his numb fingers dusting on his pale skin as he did so. His breath caught when he realized that he felt nothing: no slight movement as he breathed, no _'bump bump bump' _from a pulse. In a fit of anger and betrayal, Jack ripped his cloak off and watched as it fell from the church, withering and floating away like a dying flower.

He opened his arms, the brisk chill of wind and snowflakes dusting over his now un-covered arms, kissing and nipping at his skin. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, silencing all the thoughts that floated through his tortured mind. In a slow motion, he brought his fingers to his lips and kissed them, holding his hand in the air in one, final goodbye motion to the world.

_And then Jack fell._

The moments he plummeted down the ground were all a blur to Jack. He didn't think about who would find him, he didn't think about who would care. He didn't think about anything. In truth, he _couldn't _think about anything, except the sweet promise of being ignored no more.

Jack felt his body hit the ground. He felt bones snap and ribs creak, but he welcomed the pain. He expected himself to wilt away any second, to finally reach death that so blissfully beckoned to him.

_He waited, and waited. _

_ But death did not come._

And in one fit of anger, betrayal, confusion and depression…

_Jack's eyes opened. _


End file.
